


The First of the Last Nights on Earth

by Chainthatbinds (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 2014!Castiel, 2014!Dean, Future!Castiel - Freeform, Future!Dean - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-14
Updated: 2011-12-14
Packaged: 2017-11-15 02:11:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/522025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Chainthatbinds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>http://chainthatbinds.livejournal.com/</p></blockquote>





	The First of the Last Nights on Earth

Castiel finds himself practically running across Camp Chitaqua to Dean’s cabin. He ignores his lightheadedness to the best of his ability. He isn’t even sure if it’s from the running or from whatever combination of alcohol and random pills he took last. It doesn’t matter, whichever the case may be. He’s got a bigger worry on his plate than figuring out if he’s a bit out of shape or just still floating from his last attempt at getting high.

There’s a rumor going around and, if it’s true - Father, he hopes it isn’t true - Dean should not be left alone. Castiel knows, where ever he is, Dean’s alone. He’s been that way more often than not. Even when the Winchester spends the night in Risa’s cabin or Jane’s cabin or with some of the boys, blowing off some steam with some game or sport that Castiel is still trying to wrap his head around, he knows that Dean still sees himself as alone. Because he’s without his brother.

The fallen angel makes his way to the human’s living quarters and finds it completely devoid of life. From how the faint the distinct smell of Dean is, Castiel realizes that his once-charge hasn’t even been in lately. It automatically brings up the question of where the hell he could be. He knows the eldest Winchester well. He wouldn’t go just anywhere. He’d go somewhere that gives him comfort or whatever semblance of it he could create. It’s not something he can create with a quick tumble through sheets with anyone, if at all.

Then it hits him. He knows exactly where Dean is.

With another sprint across the camp (okay, yeah, the fuzzy around the edges oh his vision is definitely a bit of exhaustion) and out the gate. It’s just a short jog another couple feet around the corner and in front of a car. Not any car, of course. It’s the Impala, Sam and Dean’s old home. Now, with the roof and hood covered in dirt and foliage while rust slowly eats its way through, it’s but a shadow of what it used to be. A lot has changed over the years but to see Dean’s pride and joy in this condition is enough to tug at something in the once-angel’s chest.

But there’s Dean. He’s right there in the front seat staring right through Castiel and into the distance.

Silently, Castiel moves over to the passenger’s side and slips in. The door’s long since removed. It’s probably being used to reinforce something in camp. Dean’s still staring off at the nothingness of the horizon and not even acknowledging his presence. The fallen angel doesn’t know what to say... so he says nothing at all. It’s easier.

Castiel shifts in the seat so he’s tilting his head and resting it against the seat’s headrest. He can look at Dean without twisting his neck like this. It also helps him ignore the little bit of dizziness he’s still trying to get over. His breath is still more than a little bit heavy in his chest, too. But those two things are neither here nor there. This is about Dean. It has always been and always will be about Dean.

“It’s true.” The human’s voice starts Castiel enough that his eyes open. He isn’t even sure when they’d started to close. Must be a combination of exhaustion, drugs, alcohol and Dean’s scent. The combination of the four might’ve even been enough to make lull him even back when he was still connected to the Host. Now, it’s extra potent.

“What you heard,” Castiel could see Dean’s eyes shift enough that he was pretty sure that he is being watched, “it’s true. Got word from one of the two survivors at the showdown in Detroit. He’s, uh,” his jaw clenched and eyes hardened. Even for the stone-cold soldier Dean Winchester is now, this is a topic that’s still sore. “Sam said yes. To Lucifer.”

Castiel wanted immediately to tell Dean that he knew what he meant and didn’t need clarification, that he’s not an idiot. It’s become his default setting to be dry and sarcastic with the hunter. They’ve had their share of arguments over the years, that’s for sure. Still, this isn’t the time for fighting. He’s supposed to be... he isn’t sure what he’s supposed to be doing for Dean. Comforting isn’t something he’s ever really learned how to be.

So he just stays silent.

“I just...” Dean finally moves, slapping his hands down on the steering wheel and clamping his fingers around it. “I shoulda... it’s my fault.”

“Dean...” Castiel’s voice is a bit hoarse sounding but full of as much sympathy as he can conjure.

“No, Cas,” Dean interjects, “it is, alright? If I hadn’t been so- so goddamn hard headed and just went to find Sam. I coulda kept this from happening. I coulda talked some sense into him or- or handcuffed his ass to the bed and kept him on lockdown, if I knew he was actually thinking about saying yes to the goddamned devil!”

“It’s not your fault. It was said long before-”

“Don’t.” It’s a sharp command but not as cold as all the others the Winchester usually gives. His wall is crumbling a bit. Castiel isn’t completely sure if that’s a good or bad thing. “Just... fuckin’... just don’t, alright? You still believe that load of crap? After all this? You still think that Sammy an’ I were supposed to say yes and let those dicks torch the world for their own little fight?” Dean gestures over at Castiel, “Was this part of the plan, too? For you to fall and become pretty fuckin’ close to being human?”

“Don’t know.” Castiel scratches at under his chin, running his nails through his facial hair. “Can you think of a better reason for an angel to rebel?”

Dean apparently didn’t have an answer for that one. He goes quiet just long enough for Castiel to think they were going back to playing the quiet game. But then he sees his fingers lax on their squeezing of the wheel and his eyes close. With a hard swallow that makes the angel’s eyes watch the bob of Dean’s adam’s apple, he whispers, “M’sorry, Cas.”

“Dean.” This time it’s Castiel’s turn to warn against saying something.

“No, Cas, it’s-”

“No.” Castiel growls as he moves forward and puts his hands on both sides of Dean’s face. The human’s eyes open and stare at him with sad, green eyes with just a speck of brown reflecting the light being filtered through the trees and buildings. “I knew what I was doing. I knew what could happen. I did it anyway. I did it all for you. So don’t you try to fucking apologize for it.” Cursing is a habit he’s picked up in the last few years. One of many.

Dean’s mouth opens to say more but Castiel isn’t having it. The human- his human- just doesn’t seem to get it. So he moves forward and presses his lips over Dean’s. The hunter’s bitter and heartbroken eyes go wide from shock. He puts his hands on the angel’s shoulders but doesn’t push him away. In fact, a few seconds later, Castiel is relieved to find Dean kissing him back and his hands pulling him closer.

It’s not a chaste kiss by any means but it’s not full of heat and lust. It’s something that they’ve both been wanting for such a long time and, now that they have it, they want to enjoy it. They want to savor it for all it’s worth. At the end of the day, with Sam Winchester now fulfilling his duty as the true vessel to Lucifer, there might not be time for things like this. The world is already falling apart around them, thanks to the Croatoan virus.

This might be their last night on Earth. They might as well try and enjoy it.  


**Author's Note:**

> http://chainthatbinds.livejournal.com/


End file.
